Seven Oh Two
by wicca in training
Summary: Well, there needed to be something other than "the Beldam comes back" and mindless fluff. Don't get me wrong, I like 'em, but still...
1. Chapter 1

Well, nobody _else_ was gunna, & this has been stuck in my head for awhile...

This may or may not stay a one-shot, depends on how people like it.

* * *

A seventeen-year-old Wybie groans when the midsummer sunlight hits his face. God, his hangover hurt. Cracking one eye open, he looks at the alarm on the bedside table, the glaring red letters telling him it was 6:28 in the morning. Groaning again, Wybie drops his head back onto the pillow, planning on seven more hours of sleep.

"Wybie," his eyes snap open. The whisper is harsh and sharp, yet questioning and feeble.

Standing on the other side of the room, is Coraline. Her blue hair is a refined mess, one that says someone has been trying to restore some order. Her arms are draped self-consciously over her sides, holding the over-sized tee shirt to her small frame. His over-sized tee shirt.

"Whu…?" His head's too heavy for him to formulate an intelligent question. When did she get here? He doesn't remember her saying she was coming over…none of this makes sense. Wybie finally notices his surroundings. They're not in his room, they're in hers.

The girl shifts uncomfortably, tracing an invisible pattern on the floorboards, watching intently, as if it's intriguing. She swallows hard before looking at him disbelieving.

"You don't remember?" her voice is strained, like she's trying not to cry. The look in her eyes causes fear to rise in Wybie's chest. Don't remember? Don't remember what?

"I-I…don't…" He swallows, realizing that somewhere in the course of all this he has found himself in a sitting position. Upon this realization, he swings his sleep-heavy legs over the edge of the bed, rubbing his temple with his fingertips. Returning his hand to his side, it brushes against bare skin. Glancing down, he sees he is wearing only his boxers, just a thin layer of black fabric with mini Jolly Rogers all over it.

Studying Coraline, he knows she's hiding something. "I don't remember, Jonesy. I…tell me. Please?" he murmurs.

Trembling, she shakes her head. "We screwed up Wybie."

"Screwed up? Wha…I…what do you mean?"

"We _screwed_ up." her emphasis on the word was painful. "We…were pretty drunk last night," Wybie stares at her blankly.

"Okay," he says stupidly. He remembers the party, Tim's idea; Coraline's parents were out of town for the weekend. Word got around fast. He wasn't quite sure who brought the beer. But he remembered drinking more than he should have, stumbling, laughing… but nothing about her. Nothing that could lead to him being here with her.

"We…we" Coraline starts of awkwardly, afraid to continue. Instead, she gives him a look. Slowly, realization starts to set in. Oh God. No. It couldn't have been _that_; she can't mean _that._ Oh God.

"Y-you mean…" he can't finish his sentence. He looks at her with questioning eyes. This can't be right. Wybie wants her to say he's wrong, or stupid. Just for old time's sake.

"Yes Wybie." she finally snaps, then lowers her voice. She sighs shakily "We slept together."

Mouth agape, it starts to sink in. God…oh God. That's just…no. She…must be lying. She's lying…there's just no way. The facts set in, and it seems…plausible. Not okay, definitely not okay…but plausible.

"No…," he shakes his head, his wide eyes concentrating blankly on the floorboards. Coraline only nods her head, as Wybie stays silent.

Internally, it's a different story. Coraline- really? Of all people, Coraline? He grew up with her, hell, he saved her life. Sure, she had grown up, and was no longer flat as a board. But still, it was _Coraline_. No matter how pretty she had gotten or how many times looking at her had caused a flutter in his chest that he always did his best to stifle.

Of course, there had been moments where he allowed himself to think of her like _that_. To consider the idea, and entertain it. But there were always very clear rules to follow.

Getting drunk, getting into bed with her and forgetting about it, was NOT in the plans.

He never thought she would cross the line. Never thought she'd even think about kissing him, let alone act on it. She did kiss him right? He doesn't remember, but she might remember something…or everything. What if she didn't act on it? What if it was all him…

"Oh God…oh God. Jonesy, I-I…didn't, I mean…like, I didn't…" Wybie chokes, unable to say it. Let alone think it.

"No Wybie, you didn't force me."

"That's…good." He runs his hand through the mess of brown curls. He feels so stupid. He wants to be cool about it, tell her that he'll fix everything and make it up to her. But he can't, their situation wasn't exactly you sweep under the rug and pretend it never happened. No, this is front-and-center and it creeps him out that she knows, but he doesn't. She knows how things went.

"Yeah," she murmurs, breathless. Wybie looks at her, half in awe, the other half just plain spacing out.

"Um…we did…use…protection? Right…?" he asks her, mentally cursing himself for sounding like a wide-eyed little kid, innocent and clueless about the world. Coraline says nothing, and only bites her lip. "J-jonesy…?" he stutters, her pause can't be good.

"Yes, we did." she finally muttered, Wybie heaved a sigh of relief. The silence is awkward & heavy, Wybie feels like he has to break it.

"I'm sorry, Jonesy…I really am & I"

"Damn it Wybie!" she cuts him off. "It isn't some national tragedy, no one died, so just stop…just stop apologizing!" Wybie studies her more, and realizes she's crying. Coraline never cries.

It wasn't ideal, but it meant something to her. Wybie was sure it was her virginity, and whatever happened last night served as a milestone to her. And then there's him, acting like the world is going to end because of it. Well, doesn't he feel like shit.

"Ugh, it's too early for this," Wybie groans, swinging his legs back on the bed as he flops back down. Coraline gives him a sideways glance, but carefully makes her way to the other side of the mattress, and lays down on her side, rigidly, facing him. Wybie puts his arm around her waist & pulls her close. Coraline stiffen even more, if possible, but eventually melts into the embrace.

"I'm sorry. I mean, for being idiotic."

"It's okay," she offers, her voice shy. His eyes are closed but he swears he can see her fighting back a smile.

"I just wish…it didn't happen the way it did." he sighs. "…wish I could remember." he mumbles, falling asleep.

"Do you now?" Wybie's eyes snap open again.

"No! No…not like that…I just" he defends blindly, until he sees the small amused smirk on Coraline's face. She giggles as he pouts moodily at her.

"Not funny." after this he closes his eyes, still wanting sleep. This silence, however, is more comfortable.

"So, Wybie…this…I mean, like, you and me…could it…" Coraline struggles with her words after she gets the courage to speak up. Wybie cracks one eye open.

"Yeah," he answers her invisible question of a possible relationship. "It can." he offers a soft, gentle kiss on the cheek. "We'll take it slow, kay? As slow as you want. Last thing I'd ever want is to hurt you." he smiles warmly, even with both eyes closed already.. "What time is it?" the random question makes Coraline giggle for a second.

"7:02. Why?" Wybie merely shrugs in response. Coraline snuggles into his chest, while his arms wrapped protectively around her slim form. "Hey Wybie?" she whispers.

"Shush. Sleeping time now." he tells her.

"Wybie?" she tries again, but he's snoring lightly.

"Wybie…" she drags out in sing-song. Nope, he's still snoring.

"Wybie." her patience running thin. And he's still snoring.

"Oh come on! Nobody falls asleep that fast!" She would've hit him by now, but she can't move her arms.

"I do." he tells her quickly before snoring again.

* * *

Please review.


	2. The prequel

Well, a lot of people wanted a prequel, so here ya go.

* * *

"Is this even a good idea?" Wybie's eyes flitted around the room, expecting Coraline's parents to walk in about now.

"_You're_ the one who's supposed to be the Bad-ass, so why are you even asking that?" Unfortunately, it was true. The black leather jacket, the Harley Davidson –which technically he shouldn't even be driving-, the utter lack of interest in school, how he was oddly quiet during those horrid eight hours; he screamed Brooding Bad-ass. Well, to the one's that didn't know him, mainly girls.

"You two are lazy." Coraline commented idly, leaning on the doorframe.

"_We're_ the lazy ones?! We just dragged up two giant speakers up two flights of stairs, while _you_ just stood there!" Tim snapped at her.

"Well you said I'd just mess things up!" Coraline snapped back.

"Because you always do!" Tim jumped up. I'm not sure how that proves his point.

"For the last time, the thing with the lasagna was not my fault!" Coraline stomped her foot. Wybie laughed silently. With these two, he didn't need to talk.

"Yes it was!" Tim responded.

"How the hell was it my fault?!"

"Your firecracker was the only one that went off early, so it's your fault!"

"And you're the one who made the goddamn firecracker, ergo, it's your fault!"

"What the hell does 'ergo' mean?!" Tim shouted.

"It means 'therefore'!" Coraline rolled her eyes.

"What the fuck does that mean!" Tim shrugged.

"See! This is why you're in remedial English!" Coraline waved her hands in his direction. Wybie had a headache now.

"Well, excuse me, Ms. Everything-Honors!"

"Ok, both of you shut up!" Wybie screamed at them, the former couple stared at the normally quiet boy in shock. "Tim, you're an idiot; Coraline, the lasagna might not have been your fault, but you're the one that came up with it. Tim, be nice to Coraline, she may end up your lawyer when you get arrested for arson in five years."

"Why does everyone think I'm gunna get arrested?"

"Do we _need_ to remind why you're not allowed in the house when my parents are around?" Coraline quirked an eyebrow.

"The picture was mocking me, okay! I had to set a match to it!" Tim "explained"

"You did not set a _match_ to it; you set a _lighter_ and _hairspray_ to it." Coraline ground out.

"Technicality." Wybie face-palmed and Coraline rolled her eyes & groaned as Tim walked out of the living room.

* * *

Coraline stood there, leaning against the wall. She was slightly worried she'd fall over if she didn't have some kind of support. Damn whoever brought the beer.

Somehow Marissa, a grade-A slut if you asked Coraline, had convinced Wybie to dance. An hour ago. Granted, Wybie was insanely drunk, and if he was sober, he wouldn't even bother insulting her.

She was getting too close. Wybie was too drunk to care. Coraline narrowed her eyes. Hey! You're hand does not belong there, you little skank! Oh, fuck no; she wasn't going to do that! Coraline pushed herself off the hall, making a war path straight to Marissa.

"Stay away from him you little bitch!" Coraline growled, the slur slightly noticeable. Coraline shoved the girl's shoulder, making her spin around and face the blue-haired girl. Without giving her a chance to respond, Coraline socked the entirely-drunk-and-slightly-discombobulated girl right between the eyes. Marissa stumbled before her head met the floor with a solid _**Thwack!**_

"And you!" Coraline turned on Wybie, who was coherent enough to be scared. "I dun' wan' you ta talk to anutha girl. I dun' wan' you lookin' at anutha girl. Yer mine, yah wear?!" Coraline poked his chest at the end of every sentence, swaying slightly.

"O-o-kay, C-cor—oraline," how she understood him between the stuttering & slurring, I have no idea.

"Shut up." Coraline fisted his shirt & pulled his lips down to her level. Habit made him slouch, but he was still 6'1" and that dwarfed Coraline's 5'4" self. Wybie's hand went to her hips automatically. Coraline's hand relaxed its grip on his shirt, while the other slid up to the back of his head.

* * *

It's short, but I like it. If you feel the same way (or don't), you should let me know. And what's your honest opinion about Tim?


	3. Any questions? Good

There were several things Wybourne "Wybie" Lovat hated about Coraline Jones.

He hated how she was freakishly strong.

* * *

_Wybie was struggling in vain, Tim wasn't helping. Damn this was humiliating, being held down by a thirteen-year-old girl that was barely 110 pounds._

"_Take it back!" she screamed at him._

"_Okay! Okay!" Wybie was desperate to get her off, before one of the many "fun" effects of puberty decided to kick in._

* * *

He hated how she loved to hold things over his head.

* * *

"_You owe me." Coraline glared at him._

"_Owe you? How do I owe you?" Wybie leaned on his bike's handlebars, Coraline smirked._

"_Well, Tim still doesn't know who stole his blowtorch." Wybie just looked at her, "And of course, if a certain video of you rockin' out to a certain Aqua song found its way onto YouTube…"_

"_I hate you," Wybie glowered at her._

"_No you don't." she told him, her grin smug as she swung herself onto his bike._

* * *

He hated that she was right.

He hated when her body suddenly decided to get curvature.

* * *

"_She was supposed to be here an hour ago," he grumbled to himself._

"_Ya know talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity," Tim bit into the apple_

"_That explain why you're always talkin' to your non-existent biceps." Wybie snapped. Tim pouted and patted his arm for good measure. A Volkswagen beetle swerved up to the apartment complex. "Finally," he sighed. Who knew her vacation to Michigan would torture Wybie so much?_

"_Hey, Why-Were-You-Born! I missed you!" Wybie blinked. _

'_Stop starin' Lovat! Stop it!'_ _He yelled internally. But he just wouldn't stop. Coraline cocked her head to one side as he continued to stare._

"_Okay fine, be that way Coraline. Just ignore me, I don't care." Tim pretended to pout._

"_Oh, I'm sorry Tim." Coraline giggled as she hugged him._

"_That's better." Wybie finally snapped out of it._

"_H-Hey Coraline," She turned around & hugged the poor utterly smitten boy._

* * *

But most importantly, he hated Trent.

He _really_ hated Trent…

* * *

"_What's your problem?" Tim asked languidly as Wybie angrily hit the kick-stand for his bike._

"_It's bad enough that the bastard has to be all over her during school! But now she's brought him home!" Wybie raged while he paced._

"_Oh, Trent." Tim rolled over on the bench._

"_Yes __Trent__! He acts like she doesn't know up from down, and when she tries to talk he shoves his tongue down her throat!" Wybie threw his hands up in the air._

"_I don't think she's complaining about that part." Tim mumbled._

"_Shut up! He treats her like property!"_

"_Again: she doesn't seem to be complaining." Tim sat back up & faced Wybie. "Ow, you fucker!" Tim grabbed his nose, making sure it wasn't broken._

"_Why don't you care?! I mean, you dated her!"_

"_Yeah, in the seventh grade!"_

"_And she's your friend!"_

"_And as a friend, it's not my job to get jealous when someone's all over her." Tim rolled his eyes._

"_I'm not jealous, I'm pissed!"_

"_Jealous." Tim pointed out in a sing-song voice._

"_Ugh," Wybie collapsed on the bench, "is it that obvious?"_

_Not to Coraline. But she doesn't even know you don't like Trent." Tim shrugged.

* * *

_

_"Coraline?" Wybie yawned, staring at the girl standing in his doorway. "It's one in the morning," Coraline hugged him & he realized she was crying. "Jonesy, what happened?" Wybie pulled her into the living room, suddenly much more awake._

_"I-I didn't go to Tiffy's party." she whimpered. Wybie only nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He knew, he was right there when she was texting the Bastard._

_"And h-he…" she trailed off as Wybie pulled her into another hug, "He tried, and I didn't let him," she continued slightly muffled._

_"You kicked him in the balls didn't you?" As much as Wybie hated him, he couldn't help but feel a sympathy pain for Trent when Coraline nodded._

_

* * *

_

_While Mrs. Lovat was shocked to see Coraline draped over her grandson, she decided to let them sleep. Coraline could get in trouble later.

* * *

_

Mrs. Lovat is awesome. I don't know why, but she is. And you now know the significance of Tim.

Please review, even if its just to complain and yell at me.


	4. I totally should

While school tennis matches didn't get big crowds of football game proportions, this particular crowd was big enough to keep Wybie to the side of the bleachers. The crowd didn't make it any less fun to watch Coraline crush the other guy though.

"Hey Lovat," while he wasn't dating Coraline anymore, Trent was still a douche & still the bane of Wybie's existence.

"Johnson." Wybie responded tersely, with enough malice & force to make an attack dog lay down in submission.

"So, ah…" Trent appreciated the view of Coraline running to the farther end of the court, "I heard you tapped that. I gotta say man, nice job. She wouldn't even let _me_ do anything. Can you believe-" Trent didn't know what happened. One second there was a gloved fist in front of him, the next, pain.

"Jesus Christ, Lovat! What's your problem?!" a second gloved fist to the stomach cut him off. By now, the crowd started sensing that something slightly bad, and more slightly interesting than a tennis match, was happening.

"What the fuck man? Coraline ain't even that special!" With the human equivalent of a roar, Wybie tackled Trent with the intent to mangle his pretty boy face. Within seconds, every other feather-headed bint came flying at Wybie, trying to pry him off. Or perhaps deafen him with their shrill screams.

Although the loudest screaming person was Tim, telling Wybie to "Use the chair! Use the chair!"

Even with all the shrieking girls pulling on him, Wybie continued to wail on Trent's face, knocking loose quite a few teeth, busting his nose, & giving him two shiners that would last for somewhat longer than a month.

"Wybie." One calm voice. One small hand that barely registered through Wybie's leather trench coat. Wybie looked up to see Coraline staring at him with a rather blank look on her face, but he swore there was something akin to pride in her eyes. "I have a match to finish." Wybie stood up, taking great care to step on Trent's shoulder as he walked back to his motorcycle.

* * *

"Are you mad at me?" Wybie asked as Coraline got within earshot.

"Not really," she shrugged, then shifted the bag on her shoulder.

"Need me to hold that?" Wybie offered, brushing the shoulder strap as she was standing very close now.

"No, it's okay." Coraline shook her head quickly.

"Oh, alright…" the tall boy mumbled, starting to feel helpless, "Do you want a ride then?"

"Nah, I'm taking the bus," Coraline began to back up towards the small white bus.

"Are- are you sure I didn't make you mad? Cos if I did" Like so many months ago, Coraline fisted his shirt in one hand to bring his lips to her level. And like that same amount of months ago, Wybie's hands automatically went to her hips.

"I'm not mad at you," Coraline's lip brushed against Wybie's as she spoke, "I think it was very sweet that you beat the crap outta him. But the coach wants to talk to all us, so I'm just gunna ride the bus." Wybie watched as Coraline walked to the bus.

"You're a bit sad." Tim arrived from nowhere.

"You're the one who kept tellin' me to 'Use the chair! Use the chair!" Wybie retorted, quite used to Tim's ability to pop out of nowhere.

"I watch wrestling, it's a reflex." Tim defended.

"Now that's sad."

* * *

What's worse, writer's block or having your computer wiped clean of all files?


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